New Beginnings
by Starluff
Summary: Mary has a talk with the elusive detective.


_**I started this...a week ago? And then I was trying to write it today and my niece kept on distracting me with her cute, gurgly noises. And she drooled over my keyboard! ** _

**_Written for the monthly prompt at Watson's Woes: New Beginnings  
_**

* * *

"Watson isn't here?" Holmes asked.

He had hardly got past the doorway and already he was deducing everything. Prompted by Mary's blank stare, Holmes continued, "Watson generally likes it when I come over for dinner, so he is usually here at the doorway to greet me. If he's not here then I would assume he's not in. Was he called away? Did his practice have need of him?"

Mary took a moment to take a deep breath and gather her wits. She didn't have enough wits to deal with Holmes at the best of times, she really needed to gather all that she did possess.

"Yes, John was called away by one of his regular patients. It seems she fell down the steps and requires urgent attention. John gives his apologizes, of course-"

"No, no, do not apologize; the situation does not warrant it," Holmes waved away the mechanical apology.

"But please, stay." Mary said quickly. It was what she had wanted to say in from the start and she quickly put it in before Holmes could say otherwise. Holmes always had a way with words, as well as a very convincing manner, that one could never make him do anything if he didn't feel like it, no matter how trivial a matter. "Watson could be back at any moment, and I know how difficult it is for you to make time for us, what with your work and all."

Holmes looked at her, seemingly deep in contemplation. Then he said, "Alright," and he stood up, heading towards the drawing room.

Mary followed, feeling no less anxious.

Nevertheless, entering the drawing room was almost like reentering her domain. No matter the circumstances, this house belonged to her and she felt comforted by the now-familiar sight of her drawing room and the fire crackling in the fireplace. Holmes, Mary noticed, waited for her permission before sitting down. It was always like that, since the moment they first met: Holmes was always coldly polite to her. It was only in front of John that he showed his other side - his endearingly insufferable side.

"Now Holmes," Mary started, once she had got comfortable, "I know that you don't like needless formalities so I will be frank with you." Holmes was beginning to look intrigued, which Mary decided must be a good sign. "We...did not get off on the right foot." Holmes raised an eyebrow and leaned back into his armchair. Mary realized that she had become better at reading Holmes than she had thought would; it seemed to her that Holmes was nervous and on the defensive. "I confess to you now, Mr. Holmes, that I was threatened by your presence."

"Indeed!"

"Oh, please understand! I was, as you might remember, very lonely at the time. I had no family to support me and just when I thought I had found someone to call my own, he...was taken away from." Even now, the memory hurt, especially the memory of Holmes revealing it in the restaurant where they first met. When I met and fell in love with John, I prayed that I would finally realize my dream of having my own house and husband."

"Yes, yes, but what does it have to with me?"

"John never spoke of anything but you." As she would have expected, Holmes frowned slightly. Holmes usually kept a neutral expression around her, so any change was an indication of how deeply he had felt the emotion. "He spoke of other things, of course, but mainly of you. You were the most interesting thing that ever happened in his life, so it was what he spoke of the most. He often complained about, or praised, you. It made me very nervous to meet you. I felt very hostile towards you because I knew you were trying to come between John and I. So I purposely provoked you at the restaurant when we first met."

"I must admit, I don't know what to say." Holmes said after a pause.

"Say that you and I can try again," Mary coaxed in her soft, sweet voice. "You and John have a friendship that is rarely seen - I would hate to be the barrier that tears you two apart."

"So you would like to be on more friendly terms?" Holmes asked, sounding very skeptical and more unsure than Mary had ever heard him.

"Unless you find me so utterly repulsive that you simply cannot spend another second in my presence - then yes."

Holmes' lips twitched into a smile, and it seemed to Mary that some tension left his body. "Alright. I admit, you intrigue me, Mrs. Watson. How should we celebrate our new friendship?"

"Would you like some of John's bear? I'm sure he wouldn't mind."

"Capital!" Holmes was grinning outright now.

"And I would like to play chess," Mary said with some conviction. "I've always enjoyed playing some chess and John is simply awful."

"Ah, now I see your true purpose here!" Holmes laughed. "You are just using me for your own ends."

Mary went to bring the chess set, laughing the whole time. "You have me, Mr. Holmes! Now will you play or not?"

#

Watson walked up the steps to his home with a deep sense relief. He was quite finished with calls for the rest of the day; anything short of fatal he would refuse. Would Holmes still be there, he wondered? He doubted it. For Holmes to stay it would require him to be with Mary by himself and that was not something he was willing to do. Holmes had never been comfortable around women and despite what Watson wished, Mary did not seem to be the exception.

Which was why Watson was nothing short of shocked to hear voices coming from the drawing room.

"...I don't think that John would know the difference between a bishop and a rook if I asked him. But he does try to play because he knows I like it, bless his heart."

"Yes, Watson is forever considerate of others," came Holmes' sardonic voice. "He seems to show his consideration with more...shall we say tenderness...for some more than others."

"You have to forgive me if I find some people prettier than others, Holmes," Watson said, making his entrance.

"John!" Mary exclaimed. Holmes smiled with some emotion but it was gone quickly from his face. Watson, who knew him so well, thought he could make an educated guess as to what it was.

"Is there any food?"

"There are some sandwiches. Why don't you come eat in here? We can have a lovely evening before we retire."

"Alright." Watson, somewhat surprised, went to get his sandwiches.

"Why are you two playing chess?" Watson asked when he returned and had settled himself comfortably in an armchair, watching the proceedings.

"Because you have denied you wife the simple pleasure of a decent game." Holmes said absently, his chin in his palm, staring at the board with a fierce intensity.

"It's not my fault I never cared for the game," Watson said somewhat irritably.

"He even offered to play cards with me after I beat him five times in as many minutes," Mary added, taking Holmes' pawn and making him frown even deeper.

"Offered your wife to play cards!" Holmes cried in mock offense. "Really, Watson, have you no shame? Offering to play cards with a lady-"

"I know!" Mary cried, and then their eyes met and they burst out laughing.

"Should I be jealous?" Watson asked after the laughter had subsided.

"Oh, dearest," Mary reached out cupped his cheek, "you know you're the only one in my heart."

Watson put his hand over hers and smiled, dimly aware of Holmes rolling his eyes.

He could get used to this.


End file.
